OUR FUTURE IS NOT IN EUROPE
They said gold grows on European streets
so we traded our dreams for drowning boats
chasing shadows across the Mediterranean sea
while our mother’s soil cried beneath our feet.
We forgot the farms that fed our fathers
the markets that sang our native names
believing salvation lived in strangers’ lands
but only found cold waves and empty frames.
Our future is not in Europe
nor in the coins they toss our pain
it lives in the hands we’ve yet to build with
in the home we left, where hope remains.
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